


Prince's Gift

by ColourOuttaSpace



Category: Ramses - Fandom
Genre: Breeding, F/M, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Slavery, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:13:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27756709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColourOuttaSpace/pseuds/ColourOuttaSpace
Summary: Ahsha has arrived in the city of Amurru to solidify an alliance with the Prince, Benteshima, on behalf of the pharaoh Ramses II during Egypt's war with the Hittites. Benteshima has promised the general turned diplomat with a 'young virgin' as a gift... and what a gift she is.
Kudos: 6





	Prince's Gift

**Author's Note:**

> The original passage this 6 page erotic fic is based on is a 2 paragraph travesty that I stumbled upon on r/menwritingwomen. It's boring, sexist, and I hated it with every fiber of my being. I had commented on that post that I would rewrite it as 'practice.' 26 days from that comment, I remembered that I had said that and decided to do it because I had hit writer's block on another project. 3 hours after that, I wrote this.
> 
> I'm posting this straight after writing it... let me know if its garbage, I'm going to go sleep this off.

Ahsha finished lashing his lower robe on after the bath. It felt good to be back on land and have that option again, to wash away the sweat of the coast. He walked across the marble floor of his open bed chamber, past the luxurious bed, plush couch, elegantly carved table with a bowl of fresh fruit free for him to snack on. He finally got to the wooden vanity where a bronze disc polished to a reflective sheen stood upright, holstered on a mount in the wall. Ahsha leaned in. Hm… there were a few more wrinkles than last time. This war with the Hittites had really begun to take its toll on him. He needed to shave, as well. He could actually feel the stubble on his chin and cheeks now. He’d been so exhausted from the voyage he’d neglected to ask Benteshina for a grooming servant.

He’d also been more excited at the prospect of his suggested gift. A bath after a voyage was heavenly. A young virgin? His reflection gave him a predatory smirk. Oh yes. Nothing more satisfying.

“Your Lordship?”

Ahsha stood and pivoted towards the doorway. There, a guard of the palace stood, spear at attention, holding the linen cloth that served as his door back with his bronze shield.

“What is it, guard?” Ahsha said.

“I have brought your gift from Lord Benteshina as promised. Shall I bring her in?”

Ahsha raised an eyebrow. Finally.

“Please do so.”

The guard bowed his head, then gestured to someone out of Ahsha’s view. Shortly after, a young woman entered, her delicate feet padding against the marble floor. Her gossamer linens seemed to glide behind her as she past the guard, then turned to look at Ahsha. By Ra, she had been blessed. Her clothing was so thin as to let all who would inquire know her assets, and what assets she had. Her face was of a lighter shade than those of Egypt or Hittia. A smooth face, with broad cheekbones and a smiling chin. Her blond hair tumbled across her shoulders and back in luxurious curls.

Benteshina certainly had good tastes. Perhaps he indulged in them far too often, he was so fat... but they were fine nonetheless.

“Thank you, guard,” Ahsha said, never taking his gaze off of his gift. “You are dismissed.”

“Of course, my Lord,” the guard said, ducking past the linen and marching dutifully past the garden. As he disappeared from view, Ahsha began to step closer to Benteshina’s gift. She was short, and looked up at Ahsha with a coy smirk with her hands behind her back.

“Where are you from, slave?” he asked.

The girl bit her lip, ducking down.

“I was born here in the palace, my Lord,” she said. “I am told my mother was Thracian.”

Ahsha raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to her. “A fair-haired virgin raised in the palace of Amurru… you must be a great treasure if you were sent to me, the Great Pharaoh’s envoy.”

The girl looked back at Ahsha, smile on her face, her eyes pleading for him.

“I hope to prove that to you, my Lord. I am at your- Ah!”

Her words were cut off as the general’s left hand reached behind her and grasped her firm buttocks with a hungry claw, making the slave involuntarily jump on her tiptoes. His right hand caught her by the throat, pulling her face close to his. He bent down, brushing his nose against the slave girl’s cheek and neck. The perfumed oils she wore excited him, and he squeezed both ass and throat harder.

“You’re at my service,” he half-growled. “Is that right?”

Mouth open, gasping, tongue reaching for air, she nodded.

“Good. Then service me.”

He let her go, and the slave-girl gasped for air as she stumbled back from her tiptoes. Ahsha turned away from her as she caught her breath and padded towards the bed. He was pleased to hear her light footsteps following behind him. He turned back to her when he reached the bed. Her eyes no longer played, but diligently sought the ground. Still, he could see her biting lower lip, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Stop.”

She stopped, hands crossed behind her.

“Undress yourself, slave.”

“Yes, my Lord,” she said. She reached behind her head with her left hand, her eyes once again meeting Ahsha’s. With a gentle tug, the cord that held her gossamer linens was undone, and they fell to the floor in silence, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her body curved like a fine chalice from Ramses’ palace back in Memphis, making him lose more of his composure to a familiar, more feral state. His body reacted in kind, and Ahsha grinned as he reached behind him to untie his own sash.

“Please, my lord,” the slave-girl said, taking one eagre step towards him. “Allow me.”

Ahsha raised a quizzical eyebrow, then nodded. The girl smiled and walked forward, pressing her nakedness against his bare chest. She raised her head up to kiss him, and he did so hungrily. He brought his hands up and cupped her cheeks as they kissed, sliding his hand into her fair hair and entwining his fingers with her luscious curls. She was not idle, either, expertly tugging the sash loose and letting his lower robe fall to the ground without ceremony. Not unlocking her lips from his, her right hand slide across his skin to his exposed cock, straight and thick as a soldier’s spear. She gripped his member without hesitation, stroking it as she used her other hand to dig her nails into his back.

The general let out a growl, taking the hand off her face and bringing it down on her ass with a loud smack. The girl yelped, breaking from the kiss to take in a brief gasp. When she did, Ahsha took the handful of blonde hair he had in his right hand and pulled down, forcing her to her knees. She looked up to see his cock before her face, and her eyes widened. He smirked.

“Service me, slave,” he growled again.

She didn’t reply, only raising herself up on her knees, opening her mouth, and letting her mouth engulf his member.

By Osiris, her mouth felt wonderful! Her tongue played with his head, licking the tip to tease him and making him sigh with involuntary ecstasy. Then, she slid down further, letting him feel her warm, luscious tongue all along his length. Slowly, she began to bob her head, sucking up her spit as she did so. All the while, her eyes - those playful, dark eyes - gazed into his. They told him she was his. Only his. His slave. His pet to order and command. To use as he saw fit.

“Gods,” he breathed, staring into those servile eyes. “Faster slave.”

She nodded as she sucked on his cock, obeying his wish with vigor. She bobbed her head faster, abandoning her longing gaze to focus on her task. Her right hand reached up and grasped the base of his penis, and with skilled hands she stroked him in rhythm with her tongue and lips. Everything began to coalesce, clouding any other thought in Ahsha’s mind. He couldn’t be distracted from the slave’s service even if Seth broke from the ground to claim his soul. The feeling of her wet tongue, the tug from her hands, the slight slapping of his balls on her wrist.

“Oh fuck, keep going, slave,” he half-growled, half-sighed. She obeyed, taking note of the general’s command and sucking harder on his cock. Ahsha could feel his seed welling in him, summoned up through the skill of the Thracian slave-girl. In quick succession, he grabbed her hair with both hands, pulling her mouth down on his length with uncontrolled vigour. She choked on him, flailing her arms in surprise and alarm. Then, Ahsha threw back his head and gave a low, guttural roar as he came, filling her mouth and throat with his seed. She tried to push against his thighs as the general, trying to breath. When he finally let go of her hair, she was launched away from his dripping cock, a line of spit and seed following her and landing on her body with a warm splash.

Ahsha witnessed the slave girl fall into a sitting position and cough, letting their combined fluids fall from her mouth onto the ground. He let her gasp, regain most of her composure, before slowly stepping towards her. He bent over, reached down with his right hand, and grasped the slave-girl’s chin. Gently, he pulled her gaze back into his. Her eyes still showed the primal fear of being choked with his long spear, but it mingled with a growing carnal desire. She took one last breath before smiling once more.

“Are you pleased, my Lord,” she said between gasps.

“Mostly,” he smirked. “I intend to make full use of my gift.”

The slave bit her lower lip. “Oh? How may I further please you?”

Ahsha grinned viscously, getting to one knee and bringing his mouth to hers. She responded in kind, opening her mouth to let him taste her. As they kissed, the general’s hand placed itself on the girl’s inner thigh, gliding its way slowly to her intimate reaches. Her legs opened, letting the general’s calloused, war hardened fingers caress her lips. She moaned through the kiss as Ahsha rubbed her wet pussy, feeling its moist warmth, letting him know she was ready for the taking.

“On the bed, slave,” he whispered. She nodded, rising up from her sitting spot on the marble floor and walking to the bed. Her buttocks sashayed as she did so, teasing Ahsha more and more. This Thracian made him want more of her, making his limp cock ready to take this slave faster than any other. Benteshina had truly spoiled his guest with her.

Just as she was about to lay in the pillows that made the bed, Ahsha spoke up.

“Stop. Just… stand there, briefly.”

The slave-girl stopped. Unsure, she placed her hands behind her back. That lovely back that curved ever so slightly, that melted into a perfectly firm, scrumptious ass. That the Gods would be so kind. The general walked up behind her, one hand placed on her thigh, the other pushing down on the back of her neck. She obeyed the unspoken command, bending over the bed and holding herself up with her hands. Ahsha grabbed onto his spear with the tips of his fingers, brushing his balls and cock against the girl’s buttocks. She responded, pushing back to grind against him, wiggling her ass in anticipation. Finally, he lowered his cock and let it press its way into her.

“Oh, gods,” she gasped, gripping the pillows. “Please, my Lord. I am yours. Use me as yo- AH!”

His answer cut her off as he thrust himself inside her again. And again. Her tight, wet pussy had told him enough. She was ready to be used like the slave she was. Ahsha would do just that.

The Thracian moaned, gasped, sighed, and gave laudations to the gods as he grabbed her hips to stabilize her. Ahsha felt her tight vagina all around his cock, and the carnal pleasure of it took him. He started to go faster, his hands turning into veritable claws as he grasped into her ample ass. Her moans and sighs turned to yelps and screams, wishing for more and edging him on to use her. Right there. Right there!

“Fuck, slave!” Ahsha grunted, baring his teeth in primal want.

“Yes! My Lord,” the Thracian cried out, “fuck me right there! Please! I’m your slave, please use me!”

He’d never had one so mouthy before, but to hear her profess her desire to be used like this made him snarl in animalistic ecstasy. He put everything - his will, his thoughts, his body into the action of fucking her like a boar would a sow, and she yelped incoherently as he did so. Once again, he felt his seed begin to well-up within him.

“Have me, Thracian,” Ahsha growled. “Have my seed inside you!”

“Yes! Fill me again, my Lord!” she half-screamed. “My fields are yours to- ah, gods above!”

As she came, so did he. One hand flew out to grab her shoulder, pulling her back to make sure his shaft was buried in her pussy to the hilt. He felt his cock pulsate as it sowed his seed inside her fertile belly. Ahsha let out a contented growl as held the Thracian against him, listening to her unintelligible squeaks and desperate sighs as she felt the ecstasy flow through her own body.

Finally, the general slid out of her, going to the bed and plopping down into the pile of pillows. The Thracian soon followed, crawling up to his side and resting her head on her chest, her arm across his hardened form, her breasts pressed against his side. Ahsha’s arm idly wrapped itself around her, his hand resting on her hip. They shared a brief glance into each other’s dark eyes. Then, a short kiss. He smiled and laid his head back into a pillow, bringing his free hand to rest on his forehead as he let the cloud of carnal revelry settle inside his brain.

“Are you pleased, my Lord?” she asked.

Ahsha smirked. “Very much so, slave. You were taught well for a virgin.”

The girl chuckled. “Yes, my Lord. I would hate to disappoint the Prince’s guest.”

“Indeed. The prince has really outdone himself this time.”

“That’s high praise, my Lord. You spoil me with your flattery!”

Ahsha could feel the high beginning to fade… barely. With her around, his thoughts were naught but a miasma of lost threads and misplaced words. It must be something in her perfume. High or no, exhaustion from the voyage had begun to sink its claws into his skull, and his eyelids became heavy. He felt himself drifting.

She brought him back. The Thracian had straddled him, looking down on him with another hungry glare, curly blonde hair raining down from her head, her vagina resting on his limp cock. As he raised an inquisitive eyebrow, she started to rub herself against him, making her belly and hips sway with seductive skill. He grinned once again, responding without a word by reaching up and grabbing her hanging breasts. Ahsha’s grin turned into a smile as he started to squeeze the slave’s nipples between her forefinger and thumb, making her sigh and whimper, her face a scrunched mess of ecstatic enjoyment.

Soon, his spear was ready to thrust once more. Wordlessly, he pushed her to the side and onto her back, positioning himself to enter her once again. He caressed the Thracian’s pussy with the tip of his dick, then slid into her with quick familiarity. She gasped as he did so, followed by more whimpers as he grabbed her right breast again and squeezed. He thrusted, again and again, letting the pleasure of this moment join the cocktail of emotions from the previous encounters, drowning all other thoughts and wants. She herself bit her lip, moaned and sighed, grabbing onto a pillow and hugging onto it like a piece of driftwood saving her from drowning in a sea of endorphins.

Ahsha felt it once again. Gods, this fucking slave! Grasping onto her thighs with his clawed, calloused hands, he pounded inside her with an animal’s vigour. She cried out in the name of the gods, hugging the pillow tightly. Then, with a final growl of release, he came once more, letting his seed fill her belly with abandon. She sighed as well, letting the pillow flop away and join its fellows.

Now, he felt the voyage’s rigours - as well as the amorous encounters with the Thracian - overtake him. Just as the slave-girl was rising up to kiss him, Ahsha raised a hand and placed his fingertips on her lips.

“Leave me now,” he said. “I’m sleepy.”

The girl smirked, nodded, and wordlessly raised herself from the pillows. When she had put on her gossamer dress and left the bedchamber, Ahsha lay in the pile of pillows and tried to remember what Benteshina had said about the Hittite coalition forming up north.

-

Kriti was happy she no longer had to smile at that Egyptian pig. She left with a snarl he knew he wouldn’t see. Virgin indeed… she was as much a virgin as the moon was ever the sun. But that didn’t matter. All she had to do was play the part. Now she needed to see the healer about those herbs. She wouldn’t be much use to the Prince if her belly grew big with child. She traversed the garden path into the palace proper, and turned the corner.

“Kriti?”

She turned around at the sound of the Prince’s voice. There he was in his bloated, gilded glory, joined by several guards with their spears and bronze shields. The fat man raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Well?” he said, simply.

She rolled her eyes.

“I always deliver, my Prince,” she said. “He’ll be so caught up with how much I pleasured him we won’t be able to notice a host of charioteers roll past his windows.”

Benteshina smiled.

“Perfect, Kriti. Excellent work as usual.”

Kriti rolled her eyes again.

“Yes, yes. I need to go to the healer before I grow large with his spawn. Excuse me, my Prince.”

“Ah, before you go,” the fat prince said, reaching behind him and producing a large, jingling sack. He threw it underhanded to Kriti, who barely caught it. Osiris on his throne, this was heavy!

“That should be enough silver to find somewhere nice in Amurru. You’ve earned your freedom.”

Kriti’s eyes grew to the size of serving plates as she opened the pouch. Sure enough, silver glittered like starlight inside. This could get her more than ‘somewhere nice’... she could open a place of business with this! She looked up again at the prince.

“I… I’m speechless,” she stammered. Benteshina chuckled.

“You’ve served me well, Kriti. I only wish to be seen as fair to those that have served me loyally these past years. Now go. I have a general to catch.”

He turned to his captain, who nodded. The captain then motioned with his spear to his men, and they filed out into the garden, towards the guest bedchambers. Bentenshina soon waddled after them.

Kriti just stood there, looking down at the silver. It was becoming difficult to see it all through her tears. Freedom… whatever god had possessed Benteshina to grant her that gift, she gave endless praise. Now, though, she really needed to get to the healer. With a sniff, she re-tied the pouch tightly and shuffled further into the palace, thinking what she would do next with the prince’s gift.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're wondering what the difference this was compared to the original, see for yourself:
> 
> "The Lebanese girl, with her full breasts and ample thighs, lay down on top of Ahsha and softly rubbed her body back and forth against his. Every bit of her skin smelled sweet, and the blond thatch between her legs was enticing. Although he had already gone several thrilling rounds, Ahsha responded. When the girl’s massage produced the desired effect, he rolled her over on one side. Easily slipping into her intimate reaches, he once again found an intense and mutual pleasure. She was certainly far from a virgin, but her expert caresses more than made up for that failing. Neither of them had said a word.  
> “Go now,” he said. “I’m sleepy.”  
> She left him alone in the vast bedchamber overlooking a garden. Soon Ahsha forgot her and began to ponder Benteshina’s revelations about the Hittite coalition and its potential unraveling."
> 
> Source: Ramses, Volume III: The Battle for Kadesh. By Christian Jacq, translated by Mary Feeney. Published by Warner Books, 1998


End file.
